


throats get slit in this neck of the woods

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy, I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band), My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Pete Wentz and His Humans
Genre: Character Death, Demons, False Identity, M/M, Paranormal, Summer Camp, major character death but not really because he's a demon now, patrick is hard on luck, sacrifices to the devil, the age gap is kinda questionable but they don't fuck so it's fine i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23072719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Let it be known that it was not Patrick Stump's decision to go to summer camp. His dad told him that he should go and make some friends, and Patrick had sighed and agreed with him. He didn't want to go. Not one bit.His whole life was thrown into a whirlwind when he and his friends started investigating the disappearance of Pete Wentz 15 years earlier, and he met the boy who lived on the other side of the woods, with his long dreadlocks and big smile by the name of Lewis Kingston.When Camp Blue Banner burned to shreds on that early August night in 2015, Patrick finally saw the horrifying truth beneath the lie that was Lewis. Would Patrick be blinded by love and follow the being of his nightmares to the ends of the world? Or would he escape with his life, but let the memory plague him until the day he died?
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hi so this is gonna be my first chaptered fic :) i've had the idea in my head for about 7 months and i finally decided to write it. the posting schedule of this might be a bit weird, but i guess we'll see. i might have chapter 1 up today or tomorrow, who knows?
> 
> anyway, i hope u enjoy it, and, as always, comments/suggestions would be greatly appreciated!

Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III was never exactly the kind of kid that could’ve been considered “popular.” He was never picked on, but he definitely didn’t hang out with the football team in high school. Pete was that kid who nobody really paid much mind to. He was on the soccer team, and he was one of the best players on the team, but he wasn’t friends with any of his teammates. He minded his business, and everybody else minded their own business.

Pete’s parents wanted him to follow in the footsteps of his father and become a lawyer, but he never wanted that for himself. He had a passion for music that was unmatched in the small Illinois town of Ashbrook. All of his spare time was spent playing his bass, writing lyrics, or listening to heavy metal. He wanted to make a career out of playing his songs for people, making a name for himself the way he felt that he couldn’t in his largely traditional, conservative hometown. Whenever he brought it up to his parents, they’d smile and nod, but he could see the doubt and judgment in their eyes, and, he couldn’t lie, it hurt him inside. He never let it deter him.

In 11th grade, Pete snuck out of the house a lot. He would drive with his grown friends to Chicago on Friday nights to play shows in this tiny bar owned by the friend of one of his friends. His mom caught him leaving one night in late April of 2000. When he came back home at 3 AM, both of his parents were waiting for him in the living room, sitting beside each other on the brown couch. His mom looked worried. His dad looked pissed.

"Oh, uh,” Pete stuttered, laughing nervously. “Hi, guys. I wasn’t expecting you to be awake this early. It’s just a really nice night and I couldn’t sleep so I decided to sit on the porch for a little bit.”

His dad stood up and stomped until he had Pete backed against the wall. “Don’t expect me to believe you were sitting on the porch for three hours playing that damned guitar, Peter. Where did you go? Who were you with?”

“Well, I tried,” Pete squeaked to himself and set his bass down carefully beside him. “I’m sorry, dad, I was hanging out with my friends from the city. Every Friday for the last two months, I’ve been going to the city to play gigs with them at this bar--”

“Bar?!” his mom chimed in, more sad than angry. “You’ve been going to a bar?!”

Pete nodded and said, “I don’t drink. We just play our set and leave. That’s all!”

“That goddamn bass is turning you into one of those goth rebels,” his dad declared. Pete couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “I’m sorry, Pete, but I can’t let you keep that cursed thing. Maybe soon you’ll see that you need to find a real, worthwhile career that you go to college to get,” he leaned down and snatched the bass off the ground before Pete could grab it.

“That’s not fucking fair! I don’t want to be you! You’re fucking horrible! I’d rather kill myself than be like you!” Pete screamed and sprinted up the stairs, slamming and locking his bedroom door. He threw himself down on the bed and punched his pillow, imagining it to be his dad. “I never want to be like you,” he muttered to himself through a tightly clenched jaw. His head hung low and his dyed black dreadlocks brushed against his tear-stained cheeks.

Two boring weeks later, Pete still hadn't gotten his bass back, so he didn't leave on Friday nights with his friends. He never got to see them otherwise, so he was just bored and all on his own. One evening, his mom gently tapped on his bedroom door. Pete let her in. She sat down on the end of Pete's bed and sighed. "Your father wants you to go to camp this summer."

"Camp?" Pete groaned. "Why?"

His mom shrugged. "I'm not really sure, kiddo. He says it'll keep you in line. I figured I'd tell you myself, instead of him having to tell you. You wouldn't have reacted well to that."

"You're right, I wouldn't have."

"I do think you should go. We found this really nice looking summer camp about 2 hours south, and I feel like you need to interact with more kids your age."

Pete rolled his eyes. "Fine," But he didn't really think he needed all that social interaction. He loved his mom, though, so he would go for her. He definitely wasn't going for his dad.

In the middle of June that year, Pete started at Camp Blue Banner. He would be there for 2 months, until mid-August. He was still pissed off that his dad wouldn't let him bring any of his music, but he was dealing. He would deal with it.

He didn't talk to anybody for the first three days unless he absolutely had to. Then, the members of his small group started to try to interact with him, and he let his guard down a little. He bonded particularly well with three younger boys named Brendon, Ryan, and Dallon. They were a bit weird, but Pete couldn't exactly say that he wasn't, too.

On a late July night, Ryan shook Pete awake in the middle of the night. Pete grumbled, "You better have a good fuckin' reason to be waking me up this late, asshole."

"Trust me, I do," Ryan said quietly. "Come on. Me, Brendon, and Dallon were chillin' outside and the coolest fuckin' thing just happened! You've gotta see this shit, dude!"

"Fine, fine, I'm comin'," Pete rolled out of bed and slipped his Converse on. He knew it would probably be chilly, so he threw on an oversized black hoodie of his and the pair of blue jeans he was wearing the day before too.

When Pete followed Ryan outside, Brendon and Dallon were waiting. Brendon jumped out of his sitting position on the ground in excitement. "Come on, it's this way," Dallon stood and followed, gesturing for Pete to come along. They all wore black, hooded cloaks that flowed behind them, dragging in the dirt. Pete followed them, not without a little hesitation and a glance back at the cabin, deep into the woods.

The pines towered over them, and Pete gulped. He didn't admit it, but he was a little scared about coming into the woods in the middle of the night. There were bears in the woods, and Pete hated the thought of bears with a passion. The full moon shone over them, casting a dim light onto the forest floor. "It's over here, dumbass," he heard Ryan mutter to Brendon, shoving him not so gently. "Where are you even going?"

"No it's not, asshole. We set up over this way," Brendon motioned the way they were walking.

"No we didn't! Dude, it's literally this way."

"We should've left fuckin' markers on the trees," Brendon stomped.

"They'd only tell you that I'm right, and you hate being fuckin' wrong."

Dallon interrupted the conflict. "Can you two stop fighting for once? I'm sick of it. We only have until sunrise. Brendon's right, Ry. We set up this way."

Pete raised his eyebrows and glanced warily behind him. They only had until sunrise to do what? He tried not to make it too obvious he was listening.

Soon, they entered a small circle of looming trees. There was a circle carved into the dirt as well. Dallon stopped and let Pete wander ahead of him to look around. "So what did you guys see out here that's so interesting?"

He didn't get a reply. Instead, Dallon hit him over the head with something hard and blunt. He didn't fall unconscious, though. He toppled to the ground and caught himself on all fours. "Wha… the fuck… was that--" 

Dallon swiftly kicked him in the head, and everything went black.

When he wearily opened his eyes again, he was laying flat in the dirt, stripped down to just his underwear. Brendon and Ryan stood over him, watching him closely. "Dallon!" they both called out, then glared menacingly at each other, like they took each other's glory. 

Dallon stalked over. "Move, idiots," Brendon and Ryan scrambled aside. He gripped a couple of wooden stakes in his hand and knelt down.

"Dallon, what're you doing..?" Pete mumbled weakly. God, his head hurt, and--

Dallon stabbed through his wrist with one of the stakes. He heard the sound of it digging into the ground just before he screamed in agony. It wasn't much longer before there was a stake through his other wrist too. His arms were pinned flat-out, spread apart. Before long, there was one in each of his ankles, and he was held down in the shape of a cross in the middle of this circle drawn out in the dirt.

Dallon looked him over and played with the final stake in his hands. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt dizzy from blood loss. "Pour the gas, Ry!" Dallon ordered without breaking eye contact with Pete.

"Please, no…" Pete choked on a sob.

"Shut up, Pete. It's for a good cause."

Ryan walked around him, pouring a jug of gasoline around the edge of the circle while Brendon sat on the ground a few feet away, reading the words of a book aloud in a language that was definitely not English, and Pete realized what was happening. He was a sacrifice to some sort of evil spirit or the devil.

He whimpered helplessly when Dallon buried the last stake in his heart. He watched through incredibly blurry vision as a bright orange glow ignited around him, and he surrendered to the cold hands of death.


	2. chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He got out of the car and stretched hastily. It was a 3 hour drive from Chicago to whatever small town this was nearest to, and Patrick needed to move around. He glanced around with a yawn. There were maybe 20 teenage boys in the grass and parking lot combined, either saying goodbye to their parents or mingling with each other. None of them really looked like people Patrick would be interested in hanging out with for 2 straight months, and he thought about turning around and telling his dad this, but before he could, he was being tackled onto the hood of his dad's car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i told you guys i might have chapter 1 up today or tomorrow (well technically here it is tomorrow but it's only by like 5 minutes). and don't get bored yet, lewis will be in the next chapter ;)
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy and comments/suggestions are greatly appreciated🥺

Let it be known that it was not Patrick Stump's decision to go to summer camp. His dad told him that he should go and make some friends, and Patrick had sighed and agreed with him. He didn't want to go. Not one bit.

The only thing motivating him was his best friend, Joe, who he hadn't seen in person since he moved away two years ago. They facetimed almost nightly, and Joe was going to be there with him. That was the only reason Patrick had said yes to this.

He got out of the car and stretched hastily. It was a 3 hour drive from Chicago to whatever small town this was nearest to, and Patrick needed to move around. He glanced around with a yawn. There were maybe 20 teenage boys in the grass and parking lot combined, either saying goodbye to their parents or mingling with each other. None of them really looked like people Patrick would be interested in hanging out with for 2 straight months, and he thought about turning around and telling his dad this, but before he could, he was being tackled onto the hood of his dad's car. He could tell from the brisk laugh that sounded from above him who was holding him down, and he shoved the person off of him. "Nice to see you too, Joe," he said with a chuckle before wrapping his ridiculously pale arms around his friend.

Joe reciprocated the act, but he was taller than Patrick, so the hug was a bit awkward. It didn't matter, though. He'd missed the kid more than he cared to admit.

Patrick pulled back so he could get his bags from the backseat of his dad's van. "How was the drive, man?" Joe asked.

"Absolutely terrible," Patrick laughed.

"Well that's a way to put it."

"I'm just bein' honest," he dragged his shiny maroon suitcase out of the car and shut the door. "What else is there to say?" he shrugged.

Joe didn't reply. Patrick hugged his dad tight and within a couple of minutes, he was gone, and Patrick was stuck in the middle of the woods for the entire summer without his phone.

Patrick and Joe spent the next hour chatting about random bullshit and messing around with each other. After awhile, all the boys in the area were silenced by the owner of the camp, who introduced himself as Mark Hoppus, stepping onto the stage area and talking with them all. They were assigned to the task of forming small groups of 4-6 for the summer that they would go on hiking trips and do group activities with.  
Joe promptly dragged Patrick over to a guy with long, shaggy red hair who sat on a rock reading a book. "Andy! Be in our group!" The guy looked up and let Joe skip merrily over to him. "Patrick, this is Andy, we met like an hour and a half ago. He plays drums too! I told him all about you!"

"Of course you did," Patrick mumbled with a smile on his face. Andy grinned at him and said hello. Patrick waved back. Joe ran off to find some other kid who clearly didn't fit with any of the other quickly forming groups and drag them over, his curly hair bouncing with every step. "Joe's a little crazy. You'll get used to it at some point,' he laughed nervously.

"I sure hope so," Andy smiled softly. "So you play drums?"

"I do."

"How long have you been playing?"

"Well, I got my first kit when I was 11, but I was always drumming on everything possible way before that. I've played in my school's band since 5th grade. How about you?"

Andy nodded and said, "I was, like, 9 when I got my first kit, I don't know. I was young."

Instead of just one kid, Joe managed to drag over two. One of them was only a bit shorter than Joe, with greasy, dyed black hair and tiny teeth, who Joe introduced as Gerard. The second one, taller than Joe, was introduced as Gerard's younger brother, Mikey. He wore a black Misfits t-shirt and the skinniest skinny jeans Patrick had ever seen, and his hair was brown and straightened in his face. Both of them had the same awkward, "never talks to anyone but each other" look to them. They also both squinted in the light of the sun like they'd never seen the thing before, and honestly, Patrick wouldn't have been surprised if they actually hadn't.

A couple of hours later, after a counselor in his early 20s named Gabe Saporta had been assigned to their small group, and they'd had dinner and brought their bags to the bunks, the small group sat around a campfire deep in the woods, and they all told each other scary stories.

After Joe was done telling the worst scary story Patrick had ever heard about a gorilla and a Barbie doll, Gabe cut in before any commentary could happen on Joe's story. "Do you guys wanna hear a story that actually happened right here in these woods?"

They all listened, so Gabe told the story.

"Okay, so, about 15 years ago at camp a kid named Pete Wentz just disappeared one night out of nowhere. The only things of his that were gone were a hoodie, a pair of blue jeans, and his sneakers. They found his shoes in the woods where a fire had started a couple hours before. There was gasoline poured on the ground and that was how the fire started. The scary part, though, is the things that have happened since.

"The next year, two days before camp started, one of the counsellors was taking a smoke break and wandering through the woods when he felt a hand grab his hair and shove him to the ground. He dropped his cigarette and it burnt itself out. Nothing was there that could've done it, it just put itself out. People get thrown to the ground, shoved against trees. One year a kid got pushed into the lake about a mile north when everybody around him was at least 5 feet away. Weird shit like that still happens now, it's fuckin' crazy. And it's always at night too. People like to think it's the ghost of Pete Wentz, but I'm not really sure. No evidence was ever found other than the kid's shoes. If he was dead, I'd think they would've found some more. It's still creepy as fuck, and," he cleared his throat and yelled out to the empty woods, "I'm still waiting to see it with my own fuckin' eyes!"

When Patrick glanced around, Gerard looked particularly amazed. "A ghost?" he asked, excited.

"A ghost," Joe agreed.

Gabe put the fire out and brought them all back to the bunks shortly after. When they were all in bed, Patrick gazed out the window behind him. "We should do some ghost hunting while we're here," Gerard stated.

Mikey groaned. "I knew you were gonna say that at some point."

"It actually sounds like a good idea," Joe added. Andy and Patrick gave each other a look.

"How exactly would we do that?" Patrick asked, a bit skeptical. He wasn't entirely opposed to the idea, but he didn't want to get too involved, either.

Gerard shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe we can go out in the middle of the night and try to communicate."

"Didn't Mark say we weren't supposed to go outside on our own after 10?" Andy offered.

"Well that's probably why. They don't want anyone getting hurt," said Gerard.

"Isn't that just counteracting what you just said before?" Patrick mumbled.

"Technically, yes… But we know the risks!"

"If you're really going to go out there, Gee," Mikey sighed. "Then I'm going with you. You're not going alone."

"I'd be happy to tag along too!" Joe grinned.

Patrick rolled his eyes. "I guess if Joe's in, I'm in too."

"Y'know what? Fuck it. Why not?" Andy said.

And it was decided. After everyone else was asleep, the five of them snuck out of their bunks and split up in the woods. Gerard, Mikey, and Andy were all together, because Andy had the most muscle mass of them all, and Gerard and Mikey, collectively, had absolutely none. Joe could probably fight to defend he and Patrick if the need arose. Probably.


	3. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe sighed. "Y'know what? Fine. Just know that if we die tonight, it's all your fault."
> 
> "Sounds good," said Patrick and hopped out from behind the tree, where the boy stood, waiting patiently and calmly.
> 
> "Fine," Joe huffed. "You can help us, but I'd rather not die anytime soon, so if you change your mind, Patrick, you horny bitch, I'd be glad to run for our lives together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hii so i have a couple weeks off of school because of the coronavirus so i'm gonna post probably more than once a week because i'm gonna be bored out of my mind. anyway uhhh i hope you enjoy and comments/suggestions are always appreciated :)

Crows called out in the sky above him as Patrick trekked through the woods with Joe by his side. "Do you remember what exactly we're supposed to be doing right now?"

"Not at all, but aren't crows only supposed to be out in the day?" Joe replied.

Patrick shrugged. "I don't fuckin' know. Maybe they decided they like it better when there's nobody out."

"Maybe," said Joe. "Do you believe that there might actually be a ghost out here?"

"I'm not really sure what I believe. It's definitely not likely, but I guess you never know. It'd be cool as fuck if there was."

"Damn right it would be."

They both jumped when an unfamiliar voice sounded from behind them. "Oh, it's real."

A few yards behind them stood a boy with long, dark dreadlocks and a big black hoodie that draped over his body. His clothes were torn and the cuffs of his blue jeans were covered in dirt and mud stains that looked to be years old. The boy leaned against a tree and grinned sheepishly, folding his arms over his chest. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just come out here a lot, and I heard you talking about it. There's totally a ghost in these woods."

Patrick shook his head and asked, "Who are you, exactly?"

"I live kinda nearby. I like to come out here at night. It's my getaway," the boy answered as the grin vanished from his features. "You guys are from Camp Blue Banner, right?"

"Uh, yeah," said Joe.

"I thought so. So, what're you two doing out here so late anyway? Don't they not want you to come out at night or something?" the boy stared inquisitively at Patrick. His gentle gaze seemed illuminated in the moonlight, maybe a bit more than it should've been. Patrick, for one, thought it was fucking gorgeous. Maybe he thought this boy who had randomly appeared behind them was kind of cute, so what?

"They really don't. A friend wanted us to come out here and try to find the ghost," Patrick stated. The boy's gaze never faltered and Patrick felt his cheeks heat up.

The boy smiled softly in response and hummed, seeming satisfied. "I could help you, I'm sure. My dad was the prime suspect of that kid's disappearance for a little while."

"That sounds good…" Patrick said without a second thought. Joe snapped his head back to look at him like he was crazy.

"Patrick, can I talk to you for a second? Alone?" Joe whispered harshly. He didn't wait for a reply before he dragged Patrick behind a tree and scolded him. "This dude could be a serial killer, Patrick! The fuck's gotten into you?!"

"I don't know. But how do we know he's lying?" Patrick said innocently, giving Joe his best puppy dog eyes.

Joe sighed. "Y'know what? Fine. Just know that if we die tonight, it's all your fault."

"Sounds good," said Patrick and hopped out from behind the tree, where the boy stood, waiting patiently and calmly.

"Fine," Joe huffed. "You can help us, but I'd rather not die anytime soon, so if you change your mind, Patrick, you horny bitch, I'd be glad to run for our lives together."

Patrick felt a blush rapidly spread across his face and looked down at his feet. "I'm not a horny bitch. Fuck off, Trohman."

"I'll fuck off when we go back to the bunks. I'm getting cranky."

"I can tell," Patrick grumbled, then turned to the boy, standing there with his eyebrows raised. "But anyway, yeah. A little help would be great."

"Perfect," the boy shot back with a smirk. "I'm Lewis, by the way," he took Patrick's hand in his own and leaned down to kiss it, while not breaking eye contact with Patrick.

"Patrick," he croaked in return.

Lewis grinned, the crinkles forming around his eyes looking perfect on his face. Was it possible to fall in love in 2 minutes? Because Patrick was pretty sure he was in love.

"Well, first off," Lewis began, and Patrick was a little confused for a moment. His whole world had been thrown off balance for a second at the feeling of Lewis' soft, kind lips brushing over his hand. "I've seen that ghost do shit before. One time it even pushed me to the ground," he announced, making over dramatic gestures with his hands and changing his tone to a deep growl whilst staring devilishly at Patrick. Patrick's teenage dick took great interest in this. He just hoped Lewis wouldn't notice, but even more, he hoped Joe wouldn't notice. Joe would never leave him alone about it, especially considering that Joe was the only person in the entire world who knew that he was gay, and he planned to keep it that way for as long as possible.

"It's late," Lewis suddenly said, finally breaking eye contact with Patrick in favor of a spot in the distance. "I should probably get going. I'm sure I'll see you around," he smiled at Patrick and winked--- or tried to and totally failed. It looked a little like he was on drugs, honestly--- before jogging past Patrick and going deeper into the woods. Patrick watched until he disappeared behind the thicket of trees and after, still a bit dazed and half-hard.

"I told you you're a horny bitch," Joe said to him as he prepared to drag Patrick back to the bunks.

"And I told you we weren't gonna die," Patrick uttered.

"Which one of those options is clearer, though? Exactly, it's the first one."

"Hey, I just think he's kinda cute, that's all. It's fine."

"Whatever you say, dude. Whatever you say.

"Fuck off," Patrick giggled nervously.

"You're never gonna see the last of this, Stumpy."

Patrick saw that gorgeous, youthful face with a big, dopey grin in his dreams that night. Maybe he was starting to be a believer in love at first sight. Maybe Lewis was the man of his dreams. He hoped they'd see each other again soon.


	4. chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did you tell anyone else about me?"
> 
> Patrick frowned and shook his head no. "Why? Do you wanna be our little secret?"
> 
> "I don't know, sugar, maybe I do," Lewis cracked half a smile, and that annoying fire ignited on Patrick's cheeks again at the nickname. Joe smacked his arm. "Maybe I just wanna be your dirty little secret," he added in a hushed voice before turning back to Andy, Mikey, and Gerard and introducing himself.

Lewis somehow found Patrick, now joined by Mikey, Gerard, and Andy. He skipped up to them, clearly not trying to surprise anybody, and grinned, staring directly at Patrick. "Hello," he said, bouncing. He glanced at the three he hadn't met, stopped in his tracks, his smile gone, and looked back to Patrick warily. "Did you tell anyone else about me?"

Patrick frowned and shook his head no. "Why? Do you wanna be our little secret?"

"I don't know, sugar, maybe I do," Lewis cracked half a smile, and that annoying fire ignited on Patrick's cheeks again at the nickname. Joe smacked his arm. "Maybe I just wanna be your dirty little secret," he added in a hushed voice before turning back to Andy, Mikey, and Gerard and introducing himself.

"So," Gerard began. "What all do you know about Pete Wentz, huh?"

Lewis started wandering aimlessly, and they all followed him. "Enough to be of help," he replied. "Like I said to Joe and the 'Rickster yesterday, my dad was one of the prime suspects for a little while."

"Well, what did they tell him?" Joe chipped in.

"They said that the kid was presumed dead in a homicide. That's all I really know from him, so I decided to look into it more in depth on my own. I never said my dad was the first prime suspect."

Patrick tilted his head a bit. "Who was?" he prodded, because Lewis was clearly trying to get to something.

"Three other kids at camp that year…" Lewis trailed off with a grin. "I'm not too sure what their names were, but they were rumored to have been the last people to see Pete Wentz alive. People don't tell you about them, and I'm not really sure why. Maybe they think that kids aren't capable of murder. If that is what happened, at least. They didn't exactly have the best reputation. But Pete used to hang out with them before he disappeared. One kid even saw them come back into the bunks that night without Pete. I think it'd be an interesting thing to look into, don't you?"

"Totally! This could be our first lead, guys!" Gerard exclaimed.

Mikey groaned. "Gee, I thought we were ghost hunting?"

The older brother shrugged lightly and said, "Well, we can be both ghost hunters and detectives, right?"

Mikey didn't reply, just rolled his eyes and stifled a smile.

"Brendon…" Lewis whispered, deep in thought. "Ryan… and… who was the last one? Dalton? No, no, it was… Dallon!" he smiled, looking at Patrick with a satisfied grin. "Their names were Brendon, Ryan, and Dallon. And I bet you could probably find some information on them somewhere in the main office. They should have paper copies of the records of all the people who were here up until just a couple of years ago."

"Which means," Patrick pondered. "Wouldn't they also have a file for Pete Wentz?"

Lewis went completely stiff. Just as quickly as he froze up, though, he sighed and shook his head. "What time is it?" he asked, in a hurry. "You guys should probably be heading back to the bunks soon. You don't wanna be gone too long. We can go to the main office tomorrow night and see what we can find."

Joe squinted at Lewis, but nodded. Something was up with this kid, he just knew it. He felt wrong, sinful, even, just for talking to him. So he didn't speak much. "He's right," he mumbled. "We should go."

When the five boys returned to their bunks, Joe pretended to go to sleep, but stood cautiously after his friends were passed out and pushed through the door of the log cabin. When he spared a glance around, nobody was outside. It couldn't be later than 1AM, he decided. He had enough time to find out what Lewis was up to.

Joe was right that the kid was up to something. He masked himself in the shadow of the building and watched as Lewis came out from the woods and started towards the office building. This was when Joe noticed that Lewis wasn't wearing any shoes or socks. He just walked around the woods barefoot. That had to hurt, he thought to himself. When Lewis was far enough away, Joe stepped out of the shadows and hurried to see what the other boy was doing. He watched in awe as Lewis glanced warily behind him before walking through the wall, into the main office. "The fuck?" Joe muttered before getting closer to the office.

A few minutes later, Lewis opened the door and walked out. Joe took a deep breath and stepped out into the pale moonlight. Lewis stopped dead in his tracks. "Uh- Hey, Joe," his eyes glowed a bright amber in the light. "What're you doing out here?

"I don't know. I could ask you the same thing," said Joe. "Whatcha got there?" he peered at the file buried under Lewis' arm.

"Uh, nothing, what're you talking about?" he tried to hide the tremor in his voice with a shaky laugh and tucked the file even closer to him.

"Didn't look like nothing when you walked right through the wall," Joe remarked.

Lewis was slowly backing away with a panicked expression. "Don't tell anybody. Please, Joe. I… I need you guys on my side…" his vulnerability shone through the surface, even though he was clearly trying to hide it.

Joe considered this. "Your side of what?"

Lewis swallowed visibly, even in the dark of the night and even from this distance of a couple of yards. "I… You wouldn't be on my side if I told you."

"Well, that's reassuring," he said with a sigh. "Is whatever you're trying to do gonna hurt Patrick?"

Lewis shook his head. "No," Joe stared at him. "I promise, I don't have any harmful intent in regards to any of you. I just don't wanna be here anymore, that's all."

Joe paused for a moment before nodding slowly, carefully, and said, "Okay. I won't tell them I saw you. But if you hurt Patrick, you're fuckin' scraps, you hear me?"

"For sure," Lewis nodded, grateful. "You should get some rest. I'm gonna head home," he didn't wait for a reply before dashing past Joe, into the woods. Joe turned and stalked towards the bunks, wondering just what Lewis took from the office, and, more importantly, how he phased through the wall to get in there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well i'm almost done writing my draft of the entire story so i'll know how many chapters it's gonna be :) also i'm pretty sure there's going to be a sequel so after the story's done being posted, keep an eye out for that !!
> 
> as always, comments/suggestions are always appreciated and i hope you're enjoying the story so far


	5. chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all scattered about the side wall, with its row of file cabinets, most of which were locked. Just as they were about to give up and head back to the bunks, Patrick pulled on a random drawer and it actually opened. He grinned and gestured for Gerard to hand him the flashlight. He did, and Patrick searched carefully through the contents of the drawer. "Files from 2000. Sounds about right. Now I've just gotta find a Brendon, a Ryan, and a Dallon in here."
> 
> "Hm…" Joe muttered with a light huff. "Wonder why just that drawer was unlocked and nothing else."
> 
> "Lucky coincidence, I guess," shrugged Patrick.

Joe refused to leave Patrick's side when he, Gerard, and Mikey went to Camp Blue Banner's main office the next night to find the records of Brendon, Ryan, and Dallon. "We'll be fine, dude, I swear. You don't need to come along," Patrick told Joe, but he wasn't having it.

"The more, the merrier, right?" he offered with a sheepish grin, but Patrick knew there was something underneath. Fleeting worry in his large blue eyes. He knew commenting on it was useless, though, so he let his friend join them.

Patrick didn't see Lewis that night, and it kind of saddened him. Why, though? He'd only known him for a couple of days. They just had this connection that Patrick couldn't put into words. He just had a feeling that Lewis was the one for him, and he was determined to get together with him this summer.

The four approached the main office with caution and Mikey and Gerard debated how to get inside, since they were pretty sure the door was locked. "We can just go through the window," Gerard said.

"What if we break something?" Mikey worried.

"You're always afraid of a little danger, Mikes," the greasy haired boy smiled. "Let's just go through the--"

"Guys," Joe called out, his hand resting on the doorknob of the open door. "Turns out someone forgot to lock the door."

They all rushed inside and Joe shut the door behind them with a quiet click. "I brought a flashlight!" Gerard whispered happily, and a bright light illuminated the back wall. "Let's find those files."

They all scattered about the side wall, with its row of file cabinets, most of which were locked. Just as they were about to give up and head back to the bunks, Patrick pulled on a random drawer and it actually opened. He grinned and gestured for Gerard to hand him the flashlight. He did, and Patrick searched carefully through the contents of the drawer. "Files from 2000. Sounds about right. Now I've just gotta find a Brendon, a Ryan, and a Dallon in here."

"Hm…" Joe muttered with a light huff. "Wonder why just that drawer was unlocked and nothing else."

"Lucky coincidence, I guess," shrugged Patrick. "Aha! Found one! George Ryan Ross Jr., AKA Ryan," He neatly laid the file beside him and kept looking.

After a few moments, Patrick had found the other two files. He didn't point it out to the group, but he did notice that there wasn't a file for Pete Wentz in that drawer. Maybe there was another drawer for kids presumed dead or kids who disappeared. Who knows? "That's all we need, now let's get out of here before someone comes in."

They returned to the bunks without any problems and laid down. Patrick drifted off to sleep with thoughts of Lewis all throughout his mind, and he didn't care at all. God, he was so hopelessly in love after less than a week of knowing him. He didn't even know that was possible.

The next night, the four of them decided they needed some beauty rest and Andy was happy to have another night of actually restful sleep. When the campers were woken up early for a "group discussion", Patrick groaned in protest and almost rolled off the top bunk of he and Joe's bed. "Jeez, watch it, Rick. I know you're tired but you don't wanna break your fuckin' leg and have to go home. You wouldn't get to see your boyfriend that way," said Joe in a hoarse tone.

"Shut up, Trohman, he's not my boyfriend," Patrick rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure he will be soon enough."

When everybody was gathered outside in the brisk morning sunshine, Mark climbed up to the stage area and started talking before the 30 tired, cranky boys could get too rowdy. He explained to the crowd that a few nights ago, some precious records were stolen from the main office, and that "if any campers are found with the records, it will result in immediate suspension from camp for the rest of the summer, unless you turn them in before the end of the day today."

After Mark was finished and told them to go get their breakfasts from the cafeteria, Patrick glanced around, only to find Gabe staring inquisitively in their direction. He motioned for Patrick to come over to him, so he anxiously stood up and jogged over to the tall counselor. "You guys are up to something, aren't you?" Gabe said with a smug look on his face.

"Uhh, what do you mean, Gabe?" Patrick bounced on his heels.

"I'm not gonna say that I think you guys stole those files but…" he paused, a fond smile playing on his lips. "I think you guys stole those files. Don't worry, I won't tattle, I just wanna know what you guys are up to."

"Fine, we stole the files. We're gonna give them back. We've just been looking into the whole Pete Wentz thing more in-depth."

"Really?" Gabe asked. "Interesting. When you guys figure out what happened, you should totally tell me. I've always been interested, but I'm a little too busy to look into it."

"Uh, sure. You're not gonna tell Mark?"

"Nope," he held his palms in the air as a promise.

Patrick let out a sigh of relief and asked, "Was that everything?"

"Yup. Go get your breakfast, kid," Gabe turned away with a smile and strode in the other direction.

"Gabe!" Patrick shouted out. Gabe stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "Thank you," Patrick said, and Gabe waved a hand back at him in a fluent motion that said "don't worry about it".

Patrick ran back toward the rest of his friends, wandering in a clump to the cafeteria and told them what just happened with Gabe. "Well that was close," Andy chuckled. "I'm not really that surprised that Gabe let us off the hook."

"Yeah," Patrick said. "Thank god."

***

"Actually, that's 'thank the demon' to you, Patty," Pete muttered, sitting, invisible, in a tree branch a couple of yards away. His fuzzy, black, pointed tail waved slowly behind him. They had to be more than just a few yards apart. They were worlds, entire galaxies, even, apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh, pete is watching them?? who knows, he might even be hiding in plain sight😳 i'm sure they'll figure it out before it's too late... or will they? mwahaha
> 
> anyway though, i hope you enjoyed the chapter and, as always, comments/suggestions are greatly appreciated!


	6. chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he finally pulled the stone out and scraped enough of the dirt out of the letters chiseled into it so that he could read its message, he did so out loud. "In memorial of Peter Wentz III, who vanished in the flames that devoured the forest in the summer of 2000. June 5th, 1983 - July 27th, 2000…" Patrick trailed off. His head was starting to spin and he dropped the stone on the ground in favor of using his hands to hold himself steady. His vision went black.

"Hey, Patrick?" asked Lewis a couple weeks after the assembly. They hadn't come up with a damn thing about Pete Wentz, and it was frustrating to all of them. Even Gerard was considering giving up on the mystery, and that took a lot, as Patrick had learned. Despite that, the whole group had at least somewhat taken a liking to Lewis, so they all hung out a couple nights a week anyway. Patrick had no doubt fallen for the mysterious boy of the woods, and Lewis seemed to reciprocate those feelings. Patrick wanted so badly to confess his love, but he didn’t, in fear of losing their friendship to rejection. Joe constantly tried to point out the “obvious” signs that Lewis felt the same, but Patrick just couldn’t see it, much to Joe’s annoyance.

The two of them separated themselves from the rest by a couple yards, and Patrick titled his head. "What's up?"

Lewis gazed up at the stars. "Do you think… do you think you could come out here tomorrow night? On your own? I wanna spend some time alone with you."

Patrick smiled softly. "Yeah, for sure," he took this opportunity to look into Lewis' beautiful, pained eyes. They always appeared like they'd seen far too much in their days, and he always looked like he was plagued by some terrible memories that followed him, gripping him by his tense shoulders.

"Great," Lewis whispered, looking back at Patrick. They sauntered over to the rest of the group and sat down on a log.

"I wish we could figure out what happened to Pete Wentz," sighed Gerard.

For a moment, nobody responded. "I have an idea," Lewis said. They all looked at him, curious. Joe had always been wary around Lewis, but he was starting to feel a bit more comfortable with him, it seemed. "What if you contacted Brendon, Ryan, and Dallon?"

"How would we get their contact information?" Mikey asked. He seemed intrigued by the idea, but sort of skeptical.

"I don't know, the internet can find that shit, right?" Lewis carefully replied.

"You guys are lucky I'm good at the internet. I could probably have that by tomorrow night," Joe stated boldly, leaning against a tree.

"Well then you can definitely have it in two days?" Andy grinned.

"Totally," Patrick cut in. "When he says he's good at this shit, he's really good at it. Like, hacker good."

"Joe's the name, hacking's my game," Joe snapped and pointed at Andy with a wink.

Lewis was smiling fondly when Patrick glanced over at him. He laid his head on the older boy's shoulder, and Lewis looked down at him and smiled even wider.

Patrick couldn't stay still the next day.

Gerard ran past him, some of his long, greasy hair smacking him in the face. “Ow, watch it, dude,” Patrick said with a chuckle, watching as the older boy looked over his shoulder at him with a devilish grin.

“You’re lucky I didn’t hit you with the wood, Pat!” Gerard exclaimed.

“Don’t call me Pat,” Patrick rolled his eyes.

Mikey approached Gerard from behind, carrying a pile of small logs and sticks. Gabe was trying to teach their team how to start a fire because, somehow, none of them but Andy had any idea how to do that. Andy decided to help Gabe show them because Gabe “couldn’t do it alone.”

“What a surprise,” Mikey said to his brother. “You actually managed to carry some wood, and then to run with it? That’s a new one.”

“Shut up, dickface,” Gerard snapped back.

It was around 4 in the afternoon, and they had until 5:30 to start a fire. Honestly, Patrick wasn’t sure any of them were going to be able to do it. Andy was the only one who even knew the tiniest thing about this stuff, which made him a crutch for four on this team of wimps and babies. He managed to stay standing, even with all the weight. He really didn’t get enough credit for that.

It was at 5:27pm, after far too many failed attempts, that Patrick managed to get a fire going. Somehow, he was the first one out of all of them to get it right. They all cheered him on and patted him on the back, but Patrick’s wandering thoughts managed to run right back to Lewis, and he couldn’t focus.

When the night finally came, Patrick skipped happily through the trees to get to the spot he knew Lewis would be. It was a small clearing in the trees that was only a five minute walk away from the bunks, where the whole group always met. "Hey, 'Ricky," Lewis greeted him as Patrick approached.

"Hi," Patrick grinned from ear to ear, pulling Lewis into his arms. "I started a fire today."

"Could you not do that before?" Lewis replied.

"Nope. You wanna walk around for a little bit?" Patrick offered.

"I'd love that," said Lewis. "So, 'Rickster. A little birdie told me that you like to play music."

“I do,” Patrick said with a smile. “I have for as long as I can remember.”

Lewis nodded. “I see. I play the bass… I mean, I don’t really right now. My dad kinda took mine.”  
“What? Why did he take it?”

“I dunno. He says it turned me into ‘one of those goth kids’, which is so stupid. Clearly I was goth way before I got a bass, which I bought for myself, by the way.”

After a while of walking and talking, they walked into a small circle of trees. Crows flew loudly over their heads, as they liked to whenever Lewis was around. The moment they entered the area, Lewis’ breathing became frantic and shallow, and Patrick was going to ask if he was feeling alright, before his foot clashed with some sort of rock and he went tumbling to the ground.

Lewis looked down at him in surprise and held out his hand to lift him back into a standing position. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, uh," he felt that familiar heat graze over his cheeks. "What the fuck was that?" He got down on the ground and dug at the dirt, at a little hunk of stone protruding from the ground.

When he finally pulled the stone out and scraped enough of the dirt out of the letters chiseled into it so that he could read its message, he did so out loud. "In memorial of Peter Wentz III, who vanished in the flames that devoured the forest in the summer of 2000. June 5th, 1983 - July 27th, 2000…" Patrick trailed off. His head was starting to spin and he dropped the stone on the ground in favor of using his hands to hold himself steady. His vision went black.

Fire crackled all around him. Male voices chanted words he couldn't even try to recognize. There was an intense pain in his wrists, ankles, and chest. He felt so fucking dead. He couldn't see anything. He didn't know what was happening or where he was or how he got there, and he was panicking. The agony ripped through him as he felt, quite literally, the soul getting torn away from his body, leaving him just a hollow shell in the now utterly silent darkness. And he was alone. He was so painfully alone.

Just as quickly as it had started, though, it was over, and Patrick was back in this circle of trees in the woods. The only thing that had changed was that Lewis had fallen to the ground by his side, and was now sobbing. "Lewis?" he said in a weak voice.

Lewis looked up at him and his eyes immediately widened. "Oh fuck, I'm sorry," he whispered through his short gasps for air. "I… I need to get you back. We need to get out of… here," he growled the last part and looked around, rage seeping through the crevices of his words. He didn't seem angry at Patrick, though. He seemed angry at himself.

Patrick didn't sleep that night. He thought of the pain every time he closed his eyes and shivered. He thought of the loneliness, and the emptiness that was somehow worse. Most of all, though, he thought of Lewis. Had he felt the same things? Why did he apologize? What did he do wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is a day late i totally forgot to upload yesterday haha.
> 
> as always, i hope you're enjoying the story so far and comments/suggestions are always appreciated :)


	7. chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the headlights grew closer, Patrick grew more and more anxious. It felt like something was going to be wrong, so, so wrong, and he couldn't put it into words. He just wanted to sleep. He just wanted to go home.
> 
> When Patrick put an arm over his face to shield his eyes, there was a piercing scream immediately after, forcing him to lower his arm and squint through the bright lights to see where it had come from. A tall, shadowy form hopped out of the car and ran in front of it. "Oh my god, guys, we hit a person!" the figure exclaimed in a panic.

"Guys, guess what?" Joe exclaimed.

Gerard asked, a huge grin on his face, "What?!"

"I got in contact with them, and they happen to still live in the area. All three of them!" Joe smiled with pride.

Patrick was… distracted, to say the least. He listened and smiled and laughed when it was appropriate, but he kept on thinking about what had happened the night before.

"Really?" Lewis perked his head up. Patrick decided to focus on the man he loved so dearly.

"Hell yeah!" said Joe.

Lewis grinned. "Y'know what you should ask them..?" Joe glanced at Lewis and cocked an eyebrow. "You should ask if they could come here to talk to all of us!"

"That, my friend, is a good idea. I can do that."

The next night, Joe told the group that he had planned with Brendon, Ryan, and Dallon to meet on the road leading to the parking lot in two weeks. "This is finally the lead we've been looking for!" Gerard jumped up and down in excitement.

Lewis chuckled darkly and mumbled as the conversation among the rest of them continued, "Yeah… finally..." Patrick watched as Lewis stood up and headed home for the night without another word to Patrick or the rest of the group.

Almost two weeks later, just the day before they were due to meet up with Brendon, Ryan, and Dallon, Lewis and Patrick spent another night together. This time, they didn't go anywhere. "Lewis? Can I tell you something?"

Lewis gazed at him with his soft, hot whiskey colored eyes and didn't say a word, just making room for Patrick to speak. Patrick closed his eyes and pulled Lewis closer to him, and closer, and closer until their lips were intertwined and their hands tangled in each other's hair. They kissed for what felt like hours before Lewis finally pulled away. "I'm so fucking in love with you, Lewis," Patrick mumbled, panting.

Lewis sighed and gently pushed Patrick away, standing up to look down at him. "And I'm so in love with you," he replied. "But we can't be together. I’m sorry, Patrick."

Patrick was pretty sure he just felt his heart literally shatter in his chest as he stared at Lewis. He sat for a long time just like that, staring, before asking, "Why not?"

"You don't understand me… you couldn't understand… but you'll know soon enough. You won't want to be with me after you do," Lewis whispered, his watering eyes glinting in the suddenly bone-chilling moonlight. His plump lips sat in a small pout, and all Patrick wanted was to make them fold up into the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen that was oh so familiar. Lewis loved to smile, but he didn't right now because he was hurting just as much as Patrick was. Even his clothes seemed sadder. It was the same big black hoodie that covered the shape of his body and arms entirely, and the same stained blue jeans he wore when they first met. Patrick just figured he changed into them at night. Now that he thought about it, Patrick had never seen Lewis' body under the hoodie. He wanted to so badly, though. He was probably so stunning, and Patrick just wanted to hold him and feel his probably soft skin in his hands. But now he couldn't.

Patrick furrowed his eyebrows and looked away. "Do you wanna just be friends, then?"

"You bet I do, but you won't want that."

"How do you know?"

"Any decent human being wouldn't even want to know me if they knew the real me, and you're going to know the real me," said Lewis sadly.

"Well, when, exactly, am I gonna know ‘the real you’?" Patrick asked. 

"Soon," Lewis said solemnly. "You should go to bed. Not gonna get much sleep tomorrow night. You might as well get as much as you can now."

Patrick cried. He cried a lot that night. He managed to cry himself to sleep after at least two hours worth of crying, though. He wondered if he'd be able to handle the next night, being there with Lewis for even an hour. He was more concerned about whether or not Lewis wanted to be around him.

The next night, though, Patrick went with the rest of the group to meet with Brendon, Ryan, and Dallon. Whether or not he had Lewis, he still wanted to figure out what had happened to Pete Wentz.

As they slowly and quietly made their way to the parking lot, a bold voice stopped them in their tracks. "Where do you guys think you're going?"

Gabe stood about two yards behind them, alone. Gerard immediately took the step to start pleading. "Gabe, we're investigating stuff and we've figured something out! We're going to figure out more stuff! Pleasepleaseplease let us figure out more stuff."

Gabe raised his eyebrows. "Pete Wentz related stuff?" Gerard hesitated for a moment before nodding his head. "Well, in that case… go on. Investigate. But this is the last night I'm letting you guys sneak out, and you guys are gonna tell me about all the stuff you've figured out tomorrow morning. We have a deal?"

Gerard grinned and nodded sheepishly. "Totally!"

"Alright. Go investigate," Gabe said, turning around and stalking away.

Mikey sighed in relief. "That was a close one," and without another word from any of them, they walked for fifteen minutes down the gravel path to meet with Brendon, Ryan, and Dallon.

Lewis wasn't there when they got to the spot they decided to settle on the path to wait for the three older men to arrive. Twenty minutes later, headlights shone in the distance. Lewis still wasn't there yet, and Patrick wondered if he was going to come at all. He wouldn't blame his ex-friend. He was so pissed at himself for ruining what they'd built together. Why couldn't he just keep his stupid fucking mouth shut?

As the headlights grew closer, Patrick grew more and more anxious. It felt like something was going to be wrong, so, so wrong, and he couldn't put it into words. He just wanted to sleep. He just wanted to go home.

When Patrick put an arm over his face to shield his eyes, there was a piercing scream immediately after, forcing him to lower his arm and squint through the bright lights to see where it had come from. A tall, shadowy form hopped out of the car and ran in front of it. "Oh my god, guys, we hit a person!" the figure exclaimed in a panic.

Patrick glanced over. All of his friends stood there beside him, exchanging nervous glances. If they were all there, could Brendon, Ryan, and Dallon have hit… Lewis? He sprinted over to the car and stood next to the stranger. Based on what Patrick knew from the records they stole from the main office, it was Ryan. He saw dreadlocks spread in the road and kneeled down, tears forming in his eyes. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, no, no… Lewis , no…" he mumbled.

There was no way he could have survived that. The car had run over his chest, and blood spurted from his crushed torso. He was dead… Lewis was really dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dUN DUN DUUUUUN we're getting close to the end!! the full fic definitely isn't as long as i hoped it'd be in the beginning but yknow i can't write a whole novel. i AM only 14.
> 
> as always, i hope you're enjoying the story and comments/suggestions are always appreciated!


	8. chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The car slowly backed up, and two men jumped out. Soon after they approached the body, three voices chattered above Patrick, who knelt down on the ground, his chest heaving. Joe had come over and wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulder. "Wasn't he supposed to be dead?" Brendon leaned into Ryan's ear. 
> 
> "Yes, but you weren't supposed to just say that, you fucking idiot!" Ryan shot back.
> 
> "I think we have bigger things to worry about, like how the fuck he's even here?!" said Brendon.
> 
> Dallon slowly backed away towards the car. "What are you guys talking about? Who's supposed to be dead?" Patrick asked with a sniffle.
> 
> The moment Dallon opened the driver's side door of the car, the car reversed itself and the door smacked him in the face. Dallon fell to the ground, his breath shaking as the car continued to back up. It had to be going at least 60 miles per hour by the time it crashed into a tree.

The car slowly backed up, and two men jumped out. Soon after they approached the body, three voices chattered above Patrick, who knelt down on the ground, his chest heaving. Joe had come over and wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulder. "Wasn't he supposed to be dead?" Brendon leaned into Ryan's ear. 

"Yes, but you weren't supposed to just say that, you fucking idiot!" Ryan shot back.

"I think we have bigger things to worry about, like how the fuck he's even here?!" said Brendon.

Dallon slowly backed away towards the car. "What are you guys talking about? Who's supposed to be dead?" Patrick asked with a sniffle.

The moment Dallon opened the driver's side door of the car, the car reversed itself and the door smacked him in the face. Dallon fell to the ground, his breath shaking as the car continued to back up. It had to be going at least 60 miles per hour by the time it crashed into a tree.

Everyone stared at the car in awe. When Patrick finally shifted his gaze back to Lewis, he was gone. There was no body before him. "Lewis?!" he called out warily. He didn't know what the fuck was going on. Who was supposed to be dead? How did the car just reverse itself? Where the fuck did Lewis go? He glanced worriedly up at his friend.

Behind him, he heard Dallon muttering some sort of apologies, saying that he's changed now, "please don't kill me," and the tension in Patrick's mind kept on building.

"Excuses, excuses," a familiar voice came from behind him. Patrick turned around.

"Lewis?" he whispered. Lewis was drenched in blood, a wicked grin plastered on his face. His eyes glowed even brighter than usual. How the fuck was he still standing? He just got hit by a car, for fucks sake!

Lewis smiled softly in Patrick's direction, but didn't reply. "You guys don't even feel bad, do you? You just want me to spare your pathetic lives," he said to Brendon, Ryan, and Dallon with a chuckle. "Well good luck getting out this time."

Lewis stalked over to Patrick and cupped a blood coated hand over his cheek. Joe glared at him. "Oh, Patrick. I told you, you wouldn't want me after you saw the real me," he mumbled, before announcing, "And, I'm sorry for the mishap, but please, call me Pete from now on.”

Everything hit Patrick like a train. Why Pete's file was missing, why he even helped them to begin with. Pete fucking Wentz had been there the whole time, acting so innocent. He never had any suspicions that the boy he'd fallen head over heels for was all a lie, and the truth hurt like a bitch. There was nothing he could say that could express the anger and the shock and the fear he was feeling in that moment. So he said nothing at all. He simply stared at the one he’d learned to love, his heart aching.

Lewis-- Pete. Not Lewis. Pete. Pete Wentz turned away from him once he’d made it clear he wasn’t going to verbally respond, and he looked back at the three older men. “You three… you’re finally going to pay for what you did to me, after fifteen fucking years. You never should’ve left this place alive, let alone been stupid enough to ever even think about bringing your sorry asses back here,” Pete was fuming, but he smiled bitterly, maliciously. The ever increasing glow in his amber eyes continued to grow, and so much more rapidly too. By now, they hurt to look into for too long.

Out of nowhere, Pete closed his eyes, started to hysterically giggle, reached his arms up, and pulled his shirt and hoodie off over his head. There were three gaping holes that Patrick could see; one through each wrist, and the other right through his heart. He heard his friends gasp, but Patrick found himself unphased. He remembered this for himself, felt a phantom of the burning return to those spots on his own body, and his ankles too, for the first time in weeks. Had he… had he somehow remembered what… who… killed Pete? Was that why he apologized? Did he even mean it?

Pete’s laughter bubbled as a pale orange glow surrounded his body, and Patrick couldn’t help but think of a little bonfire with the way it flickered against the darkness of the forest. This was much more potent than a bonfire, whatever was happening, Patrick just had a feeling. Pete lurched forward and two massive, black bat wings sprouted from his back, as well as a long, fuzzy black tail. He jumped up from the ground and flapped his wings, allowing him to hover in the air above all of their heads. His tail flicked back and forth and he gazed down at them all with his gleaming eyes the color of hot coal.

By the time his laughing ceased, two black devil horns had erupted from his forehead and his teeth were razor sharp. “How about,” Pete said suddenly, breaking the eerie silence that surrounded the forest. If there weren’t a… whatever Pete was... in front of him, it might’ve been somewhat serene, Patrick thought. “You three tell the children what you did.”

Nobody said anything for a long moment. Then, Pete hit the ground hard, cracking the concrete. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he growled in a tone that could be described as nothing but demonic.

“Okay, okay,” Ryan whimpered in tears. “We… we tried to sacrifice you to the devil… please don’t kill me. We were just a bunch of stupid teenagers--”

“Oh, just stop with the fucking excuses!” Pete shouted. “Do you still not fucking realize the weight of what you did?! ‘Stupid teenagers’ sneak out of their parents’ house in the middle of the night to go to a skatepark and break their bones. ‘Stupid teenagers’ go to parties and drink, and smoke, and they do it because stupid teenagers are rebels. I know, I was one of those stupid teenagers. What stupid teenagers don’t do is murder people. You took absolutely everything away from me. You took my whole life away. I had a future, just like everybody else did, but for the past fifteen years, this exact moment has been my entire future. The only thing I have to look forward to is the summer, when I’m not totally alone, and even then, I can’t show myself. You have no idea how lonely it is like this… anyone would go insane from the way that I exist. So no. I’m gonna kill you, because that’s the only thing that’s ever brought me any comfort.

“And you know what? I’m sick of being forgotten. Nobody remembers me, nobody tells my story. It’s the only way I could be kept alive, but nobody cares enough to ever mention it… I’m sick of it…” he paused, a wolfish grin taking shape on his face. Patrick stared at Pete in absolute horror. Everything he’d heard and felt just weeks before was clicking into place… Pete wasn’t the monster here… Brendon, Ryan, and Dallon were. “I think…” Pete said, his eyes gleaming. “I think that tonight is going to be the night that Camp Blue Banner burns to smithereens, just like I did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe we're almost done with this fic kdjkfjsk i'm sure i'll rewrite it someday and make it better and hopefully longer. i guess we'll see haha.
> 
> anyway, i hope you're enjoying the story! comments/suggestions are always appreciated :)


	9. chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five teenage boys sat and watched, buried in heaps of regret, as the fire blazed on. There were no words to say. Until the sirens began from a distance and quickly drew closer until they were blasting in Patrick’s eardrums, not a single word was said. Even then, the only thing Patrick could manage to say was his own name and his dad’s phone number. By now, the sky was bright and blue, underneath the smoke.
> 
> When nobody was looking, Patrick ran into the woods.

Joe, Andy, Gerard, Mikey, and Patrick stared in awe as everything burned to the ground. The counsellor’s living area first, then the camper’s bunks, then the main office. One by one, Pete forced them all to watch as he ended dozens of lives. He left Brendon, Ryan, and Dallon’s mutilated corpses in the woods along the path. Brendon was decapitated after being stabbed multiple times by tree branches. Ryan was cut into pieces while still alive and fighting. Dallon’s internal organs were torn out of his body one by one, tearing him apart from the inside out. And five teenage boys were made to watch. Andy leaned into Joe’s shoulder and sobbed his way through while Joe squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could and covered Andy’s ears. Gerard and Mikey huddled together as far away as they could manage from the situation.

Patrick, on the other hand, couldn’t tear his eyes away. He thought he knew Pete so well, but clearly he knew nothing about him. As the fire roared and the sun began to rise in the sky, Pete spoke. “I know this might not mean much at all, but thank you for helping me. I’ve been waiting so long for somebody to finally care about my story enough to try like the police really didn’t. So, I’ll leave you with the precious gift of your lives. Don’t take it for granted. I know I did,” he said, and vanished into the trees.

Five teenage boys sat and watched, buried in heaps of regret, as the fire blazed on. There were no words to say. Until the sirens began from a distance and quickly drew closer until they were blasting in Patrick’s eardrums, not a single word was said. Even then, the only thing Patrick could manage to say was his own name and his dad’s phone number. By now, the sky was bright and blue, underneath the smoke.

When nobody was looking, Patrick ran into the woods.

He knew people would be looking for him, but he didn’t care. He needed to find Pete. Might he have been in shock? He wasn’t really sure, but the events of the past hours felt so unreal. He didn’t even know why he wanted to find Pete, or what he wanted to say when, or if, he did.

Before he could even think on it, Pete found him. “You came,” said the demon from behind him. “Perfect. Remember this place?”

When Patrick looked around, he actually did. This was where he found that stone just weeks ago. Where he experienced the pain that Pete had for himself. “This was where they killed you, isn’t it?”

Pete nodded. He still looked like a demon. His wings were tucked behind his back and his tail flicked calmly back and forth. “I wasn’t lying when I said that I love you,” for a moment, Patrick was confused. That night felt so far away. At this point, he wished he could go back to plain heartbreak. “And I didn’t lie about who I am as a person. And I didn’t lie about my dad taking my bass away because I was a ‘goth rebel.’ I’m still me, Patrick. There’s just… more to my story than you ever thought was possible. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I still wanted to say that I really am in love with you. You were the only good thing that’s come to me since I’ve been here. That’s why I want to give you this.”

Pete lifted his arm and a necklace appeared in his outstretched palm. He then tossed it to Patrick, who, surprisingly, caught it. The chain was black and there was a dimly glowing red crystal hanging from it. He didn’t put it on, he just held it in his hand. “What is it?”

“That,” Pete replied. “Is a necklace straight from Hell. I have one too,” he said and gestured to the necklace around his neck. “It’ll connect us. You can talk to me through it. I can’t respond through it, but if you ever want me to do anything for you, all you have to do is say it into the crystal. There’s no soul selling involved or anything like that, don’t worry. You don’t have to use it, or even wear it, but no matter what you do, don’t just sell it to some random stranger or anything. It was crafted in Hell, and it’s one of the most powerful objects humans can get their hands on. People won’t use that for good.”

“Patrick?” a voice called out. Patrick looked in the direction of the voice briefly, then back to where Pete was standing just moments ago, but nobody was there. Some random EMT found him and brought him back to the parking lot. He was gone. Maybe for the rest of Patrick’s life. And he didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Maybe it was a little fucked up that he even cared to say goodbye to that monster. Maybe he had just fallen hopelessly in love. Maybe he’d even been seduced.

When his dad arrived, hours later, Patrick was a bit less dazed. Not by much, but a little bit. He knew he didn’t want to go to any hospital or police station to wait for his dad. He wanted to savor his final moments in the charred remains of Camp Blue Banner as much as he possibly could. He wasn’t even sure why he wanted to.

He collapsed into his dad’s loving embrace, and finally let himself cry. When he’d said his goodbyes to his friends and was about to get in the passenger’s side of the car, where his dad was waiting for him, a crow swooped down and flew right over his head, so close he could feel his hair blow with the gust of air the bird created. He barely got a glance, but he saw those brilliant amber eyes, even on a bird. The crow turned and flew straight down the cement path.

After a long ride home, Patrick didn’t want his bed. He didn’t want his music or his friends from home. He didn’t want the couch and TV. He went outside and waited in the front yard. He sat outside, his phone resting beside him and his dad bringing him out some food every couple hours, until the sun had set and the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, waiting for a sign that he wasn’t all alone. It was sick, really, that he actually wanted this demon by his side for the rest of his days.

Patrick heard the front door creak open, and his dad sat beside him in the grass. “The fire wasn’t the only thing that happened, was it?” Patrick shook his head no.

“How could you tell?” he asked, turning to his dad, who he missed so much while he was gone.

“I know that look. Heartbreak. Betrayal,” said his dad. “I don’t know the story, and it has to be pretty tragic, considering the fire, so I won’t ask. You can always tell me, though, okay? I’m here for you, kiddo.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “But you wouldn’t understand just how deep it goes.”

After a long moment of silence, his dad went to the door and told him, half inside already, “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. Just make sure you lock it when you come in. I love you. I’m glad you’re home.”

“Love you too, dad.”

When he was alone again, Patrick sighed and pulled the necklace Pete gave him out of his shirt. The crystal glowed on his palm as he held it. He put it to his mouth. “Pete?” he said softly. “Did you come home with me? Can you even hear me?”

Everything was quiet. As he started to give up hope, his phone buzzed. He forgot it was even there to begin with. He picked it up with a sigh and saw a text from his own number.

‘i’m here. just dont look like me. you can try to find me if u wnna ;) -peter-’

Patrick smiled. “What I’m gonna do is go to bed. I haven’t slept in days.” His phone buzzed again.

‘asshole. wanted u to find me.’

“And do what?”

‘i dunno. thatd be up to u;). i bet demon sex is pretty good tho. havnt gotten to try it’

“I haven’t even said that I forgive you.”

‘but ur smiling and not yelling at me sooooo?’

“I hate that I forgive, but I definitely don’t forget. So no demon sex yet. Maybe sometime in the future,” Patrick laughed to himself.

‘fine. no nightmares tho ok?’

“I’ll try?”

‘i love yu ricky’

“I love you too, Pete. I’m still getting used to that, by the way.”

This time, there wasn’t a reply. That was OK, though. He knew that Pete was with him and, as sick as it was, that brought him comfort. He didn’t know what the future was going to hold, but no matter what, it was going to be okay because he had Pete. Demon and all, he loved Pete. Mass murderer and all, he loved Pete, and he was going to stay by his side until the end of his life, whether or not it meant Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's the fic! i hope you enjoyed it :) also! if you liked it, you miiiight wanna be on the lookout for a sequel sometime in the near future👀. there's also a number of other fics that i'm working on right now and i don't know when i'm gonna be able to post those.
> 
> anyway, thank you for reading, it really means a lot to me! more than anything, though, feedback is what helps a writer to grow :)


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